


So baby, say you’ll always keep me

by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Insecure Louis, M/M, Miscommunication, Small bout of depression, Soulmates, Swearing, but not a proper soulmate AU, proposal, stupid boys are stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarah_writes/pseuds/lightswoodmagic
Summary: He took a deep breath, and gripped Harry’s hand.He wasn’t sure what he expected; an electric shock through his system, all of the clouds parting so the sun could shine down on them, or maybe some kind of confirmation that this was it.What he got was warmth, a gentle grip, and a slight shiver down his spine. He still knew.Louis and Harry know that they’re meant for each other. When Harry proposes, Louis doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy until he realises Harry’s ex-boyfriend is only a few tables over, and maybe instead of a marriage, it’s time for a breakup.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne & Harry Styles, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 13
Kudos: 303
Collections: 28 Proposals Fic Fest





	So baby, say you’ll always keep me

**Author's Note:**

> This was a TIME. Oof. 
> 
> A massive, incredible thank you to my beta (who I’ll name when I’m revealed) for stopping my complete mental breakdown, and to my cheerleaders who supported me when I thought I couldn’t finish this. 
> 
> A huge thank you to Lauren for running the fest!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy xx

“For fuck's sake Lou, can you just relax?”

Louis stopped fidgeting, his hands pausing where they were picking at the loose thread he’d just found on his sweater. 

“I don’t think so.”

Zayn snorted out a laugh, nudging Louis lightly with his hip. “Why? It’s just Liam and Harry.”

“Just Liam and Harry?” Louis tilted his head to stare at Liam, wrinkling his nose. “You can’t just say that like you haven’t set me up on a _blind date_ to go and play _mini golf_ in the fucking _dark_ when you know I’m useless at it.”

He leant back against the wall outside the venue where they waited, the harsh brick catching on his sweater. The dull thump of the base from whatever music was playing just inside did little to calm his nervous heart. 

“Babe,” Zayn spun to face him, a strong hand coming to grip Louis’ forearm. “You’ll love Haz, yeah? I think you’re perfect for each other.” Zayn looked up at the sky, squinting slightly, but Louis could still see the flush on his cheeks and the crinkles by his eyes. “I’m really looking forward to you meeting Liam, too.” His voice had softened so much that he could hardly be heard. 

Louis hid his grin in his shoulder. He’d probably heard enough about Liam in the last month that he would be able to write novel upon novel about his life. They’d never had a chance to meet though, both of them busy at work, or travelling somewhere, and Louis was genuinely excited to meet the man who’d made Zayn so happy, brought back the spark in him that’d been dulled by his last disaster relationship. 

He hadn’t figured out yet if he was excited to meet Harry.

Zayn had told him that Harry, Liam’s best mate from back in high school, was exactly Louis’ type apparently, but Zayn was also notorious for setting Louis up with awful men.

Louis shuddered when he thought of the last date he’d had, a man who’d thought that clipping his fingernails at a bar was acceptable. 

“I’m looking forward to meeting Liam too,” Louis promised, and then Zayn was stepping away from him with a wide grin, and Louis’ gaze snapped across to look.

He recognised Liam instantly from the Instagram photos that Zayn had showed him, broad and strong with kind eyes and a soft smile. 

It was the man next to him that almost _demanded_ his attention though. 

It wasn’t just the fluffy sheep covered sweater vest or ring adorned hands, or even the gorgeous long legs or bitten red lips. It was the dimples in his cheeks that popped when Liam seemed to make a joke, and the way he stopped to let a family pass him on the path with an easy grin. 

“Well. Fuck,” Louis whispered under his breath, but Zayn caught it anyway. 

“Yeah.” 

It was sighed, and Louis had never thought Zayn would sound _dreamy,_ and when he managed to tear his eyes away to look at Zayn, he realised they were talking about two very different people. 

Louis didn’t correct him. 

“Hi! ‘m Liam, it’s nice to meet you.” He was a bundle of joyful energy when he bounded forward to shake Louis’ hand. 

“Hey Liam, I’m Louis.” A firm handshake, slightly calloused, not too long. Louis approved. “It’s good to meet you too, mate. Zayn won’t stop talking about you, so it’s nice to - .”

There was a quick jab to his ribs that made him splutter, an obvious attempt to shut him up before he spilled everything to Liam, but then Harry was grinning slightly at him, and his ability to speak left him anyway. He was vaguely aware of Zayn stepping forward shyly to kiss Liam on the lips, a quick hello that still made them both blush, but then Harry was stepping forward too with a pointed cough in Zayn’s direction.

“Oh, right. Lou, this is Harry, Liam’s best mate.” Zayn gestured between them, but his eyes stayed locked to Liam’s. Louis wasn’t doing much better. “Haz, this is Louis, _my_ best mate.”

 _Green_ . Harry’s eyes were deep green, and the stubble playing around his chin and jaw made Louis’ fingers itch to reach out and touch. His hair looked even softer up close, falling gently over his face, and even though the collared short sleeve shirt and slacks seemed a bit dressy for mini golf, Louis couldn’t help but think it all suited him perfectly. It seemed to be an odd realisation considering he didn’t _know_ Harry, but there was something settling into him that felt like a physical presence, a warmth that let him know that _this was it. This is him. No more looking now, you’ve finally found him._

Oh. The sheep were fluffy. 

Even better. 

It took him a moment to realise that Harry was staring back, and instead of feeling self conscious or that his hair was sticking up at the back, or anything equally irrelevant right now, he just felt like everything surging through him was mirrored in Harry; the widening of his eyes, the breathy exhale, the twitching of his fingers. 

Louis watched, heart in his throat as those same fingers reached out, covered in gorgeous rings and ending in a splash of polish, to settle in the air between them. 

“Hi. It’s lovely to meet you, Louis.” Harry’s voice was deep and calming, and it settled in Louis’ bones.

He took a deep breath, and gripped Harry’s hand. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected; an electric shock through his system, all of the clouds parting so the sun could shine down on them, or maybe some kind of confirmation that _this was it._

What he got was warmth, a gentle grip, and a slight shiver down his spine. He still knew. 

Before he could stop himself, he was twisting their hands slightly, running his fingers down Harry’s until he was loosely holding his fingertips. His thumb stroked over the pink painted nail on Harry’s index finger. 

“I love your nails,” he murmured, moving until he’d touched each one. He startled when Zayn snorted, and then realised what he’d done as his head snapped up. “Oh! ‘m sorry, it’s great to meet you too.”

They stood there for a long moment, smiling softly at each other, everything about Harry _soft_ and _lovely_ and _gorgeous._

It was Liam that ruined the moment.

“Right! Shall we?”

As they moved inside, Harry’s hand brushed against the small of Louis’ back, and there it was. 

Electricity jolting through him as they moved towards the counter.

Louis never stood a chance. 

*****

They’d lost Zayn and Liam around the fifth hole somehow, confused in an array of neon lights and laughter. Louis couldn’t say that he minded. 

Harry was everything he’d been hoping for, but nothing like what he’d been expecting. He was kind when he let people go ahead of them at the eighth hole, but cheeky when he quipped it was because _‘you can’t expect everyone to wait until you’ve had 28 shots, Lou’._ He was respectful when his touches soothed and gentled over Louis’ back and arms in passing, but incredibly alluring when he committed the most awful of cliches and plastered himself to Louis’ back to teach him how to putt properly on the twelfth. He spoke passionately about music and sport and politics, but made _incredibly_ cheesy jokes that made himself laugh, a great cackle of a thing that differed from the laugh he made when Louis sassed him. 

Louis had never believed in soulmates, had never believed in fairytales of people finding their one true love, the person that was made for them. 

But, well. 

He’d never _met_ Harry before.

It wasn’t until he collided with Harry’s back with a small _oof_ that he was thrown back into the moment. His hand came up instinctively to grab Harry’s hip, and he smoothed down the soft material of his slacks under his palm.

“Haz?”

Harry spun around, slight mischief in his eyes, the yellow and red lights from the wall reflecting onto his cheek as Louis’ hand shifted to settle on his waist. “We have to go in there! Please?” 

They were right in front of a door, a bright green ‘AVAILABLE’ lighting up the top of the frame. Louis squinted to read the writing next to it, snorting when he realised what it was. 

“Alright love, come on.” He yanked open the handle and gestured for Harry to go first. “They’re just _asking_ for trouble with a room like this though, honestly.”

Louis stepped through, and then the door shut behind them with a soft _snick_ , and he realised the sign hadn’t been lying. 

It was an optional part of the course, a pitch black room with tiny strips of neon paint along the hazards. A thin, disjointed rainbow stretched in front of them, and when Louis looked to Harry, he realised the only thing he could see was the bright green glow of his golf ball. 

He groaned, reaching out with a laugh when the ball seemed to shift back slightly in the air. “Harry! I can’t even _see_ you, this is ridiculous.”

The little green dot was moving further away and being put on the ground with a giggle, and Louis was desperate to see Harry’s face again. The sooner they were done, the better, so he figured maybe cheating on this hole would be okay. 

He snuck around the side of the course, feeling out for the wall, his own bright blue ball stuffed into his pocket as he crept towards the flag. He had just enough presence of mind to realise that Harry hadn’t taken his shot yet, but he figured out why when he reached the end, quickly pulled out his own ball, and it was stolen from his grip in a split second. 

Louis squealed, clutching at his chest as his own _traitorous_ ball seemed to be suspended in midair. 

_“_ Jesus _fucking_ Christ Harry, you gave me a _heart attack.”_

Harry was laughing as he spoke, and the blue glow was joined by a green one, happily dancing through the air in a way that made Louis wish the lights were on just so he could see the look of joy on Harry's face . They were both suddenly closer, and the glow was _just_ enough that he could see the outline of some of Harry’s features. 

The blue light shook in the air. “It wasn’t in your pocket properly. I could see you the whole time, you little sneak.”

Closer again, and Louis was suddenly immensely grateful for the lack of light, because seeing Harry this close would be _too much_. “You’re too good at this,” he whined, and then everything in front of him was dark, and his heart started pounding in his chest.

He could feel Harry in front of him, feel him moving closer until a hand came up to slowly settle at his waist. Louis tilted his head slightly, pleased when it came to rest against Harry’s, perfectly in sync, and nudged their noses together. He reached up to grip lightly at Harry’s sweater vest, the fluff under his hands adding to the overall hazy feeling sweeping through his mind. 

Suddenly there were slow fingers stroking Louis’ cheek, a thumb smoothing over an arcing cheekbone, the cool of Harry’s rings a sharp contrast to the heat blooming under Louis’ skin. 

“You were my light in the dark,” Harry whispered, and before Louis could even speak, Harry was gently tilting his chin up with his thumb, and kissing him. 

His lips were soft as he traced Louis’ jawline with his fingertips, and Louis melted into his chest with a sigh. Harry was firm and careful, demanding and thoughtful as his hand tangled in Louis’ hair and his tongue flicked at Louis’ lips. Louis groaned, a soft, quiet thing as he felt Harry’s grip tighten around his waist, burning up when he was tugged more firmly into Harry’s body.

Louis didn’t know how long they stood there in the dark trading soft kisses and longing sighs, gentle caresses and searching hands. 

All he knew was that even by the time they pulled back, panting against each other’s lips and laughing, blue and green was still all he could see when he closed his eyes.

*****

_6 months’ later_

Louis drummed his fingers on the table, humming quietly to himself. Quiet piano music was playing over the speakers in the restaurant, somehow weaving through the physicality of the flickering candle light on the tables. The room was cast in soft light and filled with murmured voices, the scent of wine and herbs hanging in the air. 

It was apparently one of Harry’s favourite places in the city, and he’d told Louis that he’d purposefully left it until now to show him. He could see why, as he waited for his boyfriend to join him. It was incredibly romantic, the kind of place that deserved a special occasion or start of a happy memory. 

Louis gaze was wandering around the room, but it lingered on the entrance as he did a double take. Harry was smiling politely at the waitress as he walked carefully between tables towards Louis, and even though it’d been six months of laughter and trust, perfect dates and meeting families, brilliant sex and overwhelming _love_ , he never failed to take Louis’ breath away. 

His hair was longer now, long enough to throw back in a little bun that always made Louis let out a quiet, happy noise when he came home. It was down now though, sitting gently around Harry’s shoulders, and Louis could feel his face softening as his lips quirked.

Harry grinned back at him as he got to their table, bending down just as he cupped the back of Louis’ neck. Louis hummed, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Harry’s wrist, squeezing lightly 

“Hi love.” It was murmured against Louis’ lips, comforting and seductive all at once in a way that instantly made him wish they were at home. 

Louis sucked in a breath. “Hi darling.” His eyes travelled the length of Harry’s body as he sat down. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks Lou, you look gorgeous. Happy anniversary.” There was a blush on Harry’s cheeks as he answered, and when he reached across the table to tangle their fingers together, Louis didn’t hesitate.

“Happy anniversary, Haz,” Louis whispered, stroking his thumb across the back of his hand. “Best six months of my life.” 

It was _such_ an understatement; they’d exchanged ‘I love you’s after a month, moved in together after three, and while people had been concerned at how quickly they were moving, all it took was for people to see them together. Louis knew that for him, Harry was it, and while he didn’t need the reassurance from anyone around them, it still warmed him when people could see how perfect they were together. 

He’d never felt as supported, challenged, _loved_ as he did with Harry. He’d never considered himself overly romantic or cheesy, didn’t see himself as sappy, but Harry had taken everything he’d known, and tipped it upside down in the best way possible. 

Harry lifted their joined hands to his lips and pressed reverent kisses to each of Louis’ knuckles. “Happy anniversary, baby. You make me happier than I ever thought I could be.” 

They smiled across the table as Louis ran his knuckle along the line of Harry’s nose, making his nose scrunch before his hand dropped back down to the table. 

He let himself fiddle with Harry’s rings as they chatted about their days, but after a while he realised he could _feel_ someone staring at him, feel the tiny hairs at the back of his neck stand up. It was then that he caught the eyes of a man a couple of tables over that looked... _familiar,_ although Louis couldn’t figure out why. He was sitting with a woman Louis knew he didn’t recognise, but when he caught the man’s eye again, the stranger was smirking, and it somehow felt _cruel._

Louis was relatively used to the homophobic stares or jabs that sometimes followed them wherever they went, but this felt different; it felt like a _personal_ problem existed that he didn’t even _know_ about. He was startled out of his whirring thoughts by Harry’s gentle voice.

“Lou? Hey, baby, are you alright?” 

He blinked, breaking the awkward staring, but not before he saw the stranger shoot a _loathing_ look at Harry, something that made Louis wince as though it was a tangible feeling in the air. 

He shook his head. “Sorry love, sorry, it’s just,” he took a breath, “do you know that couple over there? The man looks familiar and he won’t stop staring at us.” 

Harry’s brows furrowed as the waitress passed them by for the third time, her training seemingly making her pick up on the fact that they definitely weren’t in the right place to be interrupted. Louis was exceptionally grateful for that when Harry looked, gasped, and his face drained of all colour. His grip on Louis’ hand tightened though, and Louis tried to squeeze back. 

The stranger looked immensely pleased all of a sudden, ignoring his date to continue to stare them down, so Louis reached over the table and cupped Harry’s cheek. 

“Haz, hey. Love, look at me.” Louis gently turned Harry’s face back to him. “Who is it?”

Harry swallowed heavily. “It’s Rob. I haven’t seen him in ages, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he’d be here.”

 _Rob._ Harry’s older ex-boyfriend that’d promised him marriage and a family and everything Harry had ever wanted for two years, until ithad turned out he’d been married the whole time. He’d always ridiculed Harry for his clothes, his nails, his hair when it’d been long and flowing, and he’d suffocated Harry’s individuality in a way that Louis had promised would never happen again. Louis had never met him, but he _hated_ him. He’d never understood how anyone could be that awful, but especially to someone like Harry, someone so genuine and beautiful in everything he did. 

“No need to apologise love, there’s no way you could’ve known he’d be here.” Louis stroked his cheek when Harry nuzzled into his touch. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Do you want to go somewhere else?”

“No,” Harry answered instantly, straightening up and interlocking their fingers again. “No, I don’t want it to ruin our evening. How was your day?”

It was an obvious swerve, a clear way to try and distract himself when Louis could still see the pain lingering in his eyes and the defensive line of his back, but Louis let him have it. 

They talked softly over the table, ordering their food and sipping wine, and Louis tried to forget about Rob, he _did._

But it was impossible when Harry’s gaze kept flicking over to him. 

Instead, he let himself get lost in the man in front of him, this beautiful man, his _soulmate_ that deserved the world. They’d just finished their meals when Harry kept going cross eyed trying to blow the hair out of his face.

Louis reached into his pocket immediately, his fingers closing around the hair tie in there before he pulled it out with a triumphant grin. 

“Here, take this.” He waved it across the table, stopping when Harry seemed to be staring at him. “What?”

“You carry a hair tie with you? For me?”

Louis looked at him curiously. “Well, most of the time, yeah, so I grabbed it this morning because you usually forget one and I know you get warm in restaurants when you’ve had a glass or two of wine. Sometimes you have one when you go to the gym after work, but your gym bag was still at the door this morning so I knew you wouldn’t have a spare one, so I just took one from the bathroom.” Louis was watching him carefully, because Harry seemed to be frozen until he took the tie and placed it on the table. “Is - is that okay?”

“Louis.” Harry took both of his hands, his thumbs stroking across Louis’ knuckles, and Louis relaxed slightly. “I’m so in love with you. Do you have any idea what you do to me? You’ve made me believe in _soulmates_ Louis,” he laughed, but it was still soothing. “I never thought I’d meet someone as perfect for me as you are. I want - I want you for the rest of my _life_ , Lou. Always you. I can’t imagine loving anybody else the way I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Louis responded instantly, automatically, although not any less real, because the way that Harry was talking was the way people spoke just before they - _oh God._

Harry had slid out of his chair onto the floor, dropping down to one knee and pulling Louis’ hands with him until he twisted in his seat. Louis’ hands were shaking as they clung to Harry’s, and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

“Louis.” Harry looked up at him with nervous eyes. “I love you. Marry me. Will you marry me?” 

Everything seemed to vanish out of Louis’ mind until the only thing he could focus on was Harry kneeling on the floor in a beautiful suit, his knee probably smarting against the hard floor. He didn’t even have to think about it. 

“Yes,” he whispered, closing his eyes as a sob rose up in his chest. “Harry, absolutely _yes_ , of course.” 

And then everything came rushing back all at once when Harry grinned at him and swept him up in his arms, pulling him out of his chair as he stood. They were kissing before Louis’ brain could catch up, soft lips and the slight tings of salt, and then Louis realised they were both crying, at the same time the applause from the restaurant reached his ears. 

Harry’s hands were strong on his waist, clutching him close as Louis tangled his fingers in Harry's hair for a kiss that was probably _much_ too inappropriate for a crowded restaurant on a Friday night. He couldn’t care less, though. 

Him and Harry were _engaged_. 

They were going to get _married._

Harry had just asked him to _marry him_. 

Warmth and love flowed through in pulses, and he felt almost _high,_ everything he’d wanted now a reality with the man he loved beyond anything he’d ever known. 

He sobbed quietly against Harry’s mouth, threw his arms around his neck, and buried his face into the crook there. 

“I love you,” Harry whispered against his ear, lips lightly brushing his skin as Louis shivered.

“I love you too.”

Harry swayed him gently to the sound of the music. “I don’t have a ring with me, it was a bit of a spur of the moment thing.” Harry huffed a laugh against his temple. “I hope that’s alright. Oh! Here.” He pulled back and Louis whined at the loss, but then Harry was taking off his gold ‘S’ ring, and sliding it onto Louis’ ring finger. 

_Oh._

“Perfect,” Louis whispered, and then he dragged Harry down for another chaste kiss, certain that they’d scarred the other diners too much already. “Take me home, _please._ ” 

Harry kissed the top of his head. “Let me just go pay and use the bathroom, I’ll be back.” 

Louis watched him go, watched the intentional sway of his hips that made Louis grin. A couple of people came up to congratulate him, so he was too swept up in the moment to realise who the person standing in front of him was until it was too late. 

“I’d say congratulations, but it almost seems cruel, doesn’t it?”

_Rob._

Louis crossed his arms over his chest and leant back against the edge of the table. “I couldn’t care less what you think, mate. Where’s your _wife?_ ”

Rob ignored the question. “A bit weird he didn’t have a ring. Harry’s such a romantic, plans everything to the nth degree, but didn’t have a ring to propose?” He seemed to be enjoying the moment too much, and Louis felt something ugly settling in his stomach. “Probably wasn’t planned, then. Almost as if something, or _someone_ , compelled him to do it.” Rob smirked, and Louis’ stomach twisted. “Bit of a coincidence that I was a few tables over, wasn’t it? Well, congratulations I suppose. It’s a shame you’ll never be enough for him.” With a clap on his shoulder that made Louis cringe, Rob was turning to walk away before he stopped, and swung back around. “Oh, just so you know. He said he had a ring for me when I broke up with him. He’s so sentimental, probably never got rid of it. Just something to think about.” And then he was gone, weaving back through the tables as if he hadn’t just upended Louis’ entire life. 

The dim light that’d seemed romantic earlier now just seemed dark and dingy, and Louis could hardly even feel where the wooden table was digging into him. He felt cold now, the music a dull persistent drone in the background as his confused mind sent a numbness spreading through his veins.

“You ready, baby?” Harry was back, a calming hand at the small of his back, but this time, the touch did nothing. 

_No. I’m not ready._

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” 

*****

Louis knew he’d been quiet the whole way home, had let Harry lead the entire conversation, but as much as he tried to push out everything Rob had said in what was obviously a fit of jealousy, his words had left a heartbreaking thought behind. 

Had Harry only proposed because Rob was there? 

It wasn’t in his nature. Harry didn’t hurt people for fun, and he never sought revenge, even when it would’ve been understandable, but Louis couldn’t deny the coincidence that had happened right in front of his eyes. 

As they wandered through a park near their house, Louis tried to be as logical as possible. They’d spoken about marriage already, a hushed conversation filled with nervous laughter, curled up in bed, until they’d realised they both wanted it with each other. It’d been an open discussion after that, jokes about who would propose first and how extravagant it would be. Ever the romantic, Harry had insisted there’d be flowers and candles when he proposed. 

It wasn’t _important,_ Louis urged himself to remember as they walked past a group of people drinking outside a pub. It didn’t matter where he proposed, and even how he did it; Louis didn’t _care_ about that, just that Harry wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. But if Rob hadn’t been there, would Harry have even asked? He’d been looking at him all night, sad glances and tired eyes. Was it just a way to show Rob he was over him? 

Harry seemed incredibly happy as they walked up the stairs to their flat, swinging their joined hands and humming to himself, but was it because Louis had said yes, or because Rob had seen it happen? Louis could feel himself spiralling, but the more he tried to pull himself out of it, the further he fell.

_“You’ll never be enough for him.”_

Harry unlocked the door and as soon as they stepped inside, he pushed Louis gently against the door, closing it. Louis was shaking though, desperate to just _believe_ that Harry wanted this for the right reasons, but he couldn’t _help_ it. 

He knew Harry loved him, he thought, as Harry connected their lips. He knew Harry wanted to marry him someday, and that Harry would never intentionally hurt him, but it didn’t mean Harry was in complete control of his emotions about a man who’d completely destroyed him. 

It didn’t help that while Louis knew they were perfect for each other, there was now a seed of doubt that he wasn’t good enough, that six months wasn’t enough to _know_ , even though he’d known since the start. He refused to let it fester as he kissed Harry back, clutching at his jacket, but Louis felt _wrong_ now.

He pushed him away. 

“I’m gonna go have a bath,” he murmured, avoiding Harry’s confused gaze. “Just been a long day.” 

There was a kiss to his temple, one to his cheek, and a final one to his lips. 

“Okay Lou.” Harry was smiling softly at him, but Louis was rapidly breaking apart, even though he didn’t really know _why._ “I’ll be waiting for you when you get out. ‘m just gonna call Li.”

It wasn’t until Louis sank until the hot water ten minutes later that he felt calmer. They loved each other. They’d spoken about marriage before. Louis knew he wanted it more than anything, and was sure Harry did too. Rob was in the _past,_ not to be included in their future, and - 

“- and what was I supposed to do, Li? It’s not like I knew Rob would be there! I panicked and just did it.”

Louis stopped, interrupting the sloshing of the water in the tub as he realised that Harry was doing what he always did when he was on the phone, wandering around the house. 

“Yeah, I know that, but I didn’t know what else to do. It just felt like the only thing that - .” Harry’s voice trailed off as he kept walking down the hallway.

There was still steam coming off the water, it was so hot, but Louis’ blood ran cold when it was obvious that he’d been right; Harry had only proposed because Rob had been there. 

He felt slightly numb now, realising that maybe he loved Harry more than Harry loved him. He wasn’t sure it mattered though; he wanted Harry forever, wanted to adore him and protect him and love him for as long as he lived. 

He’d take any part of Harry that he could, even if it’d never be all of him, even if parts of him were still tangled in the strings that tied him to Rob.

It’d be enough. 

He didn’t realise he was crying until a tear fell from his cheek and hit the bath water, and then everything just _broke,_ and he was crying for the second time tonight for an entirely different reason. 

He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around himself, and let himself cry until the water was cold. 

*****

Louis was exhausted by the time he shuffled into the living room. 

“How was your bath, love? You were gone for a long time.” Harry put down his phone with a smile, and Louis’ heart ached. 

“It was good. Relaxing, yeah.” 

“Good! Now, I’ve got something for you. I hope it’s okay.” Harry stood, pulled something out of his pocket, and when Louis realised what it was, it was _too much._

It was a ring box, simple black velvet, but it may as well have been a grenade. 

Harry didn’t keep ring boxes, preferring to keep his rings in his own jewellery boxes.

Harry had said he didn’t have an engagement ring at the restaurant, and Rob had said that he’d bought one for _him._

Harry was going to give him a ring he bought for someone else, the same someone he’d tried to spite with the engagement in the first place. 

Louis had to get out of there. He held up his hand with a choked gasp. 

“No. ‘m sorry, no. I know why you - I have to take back my ‘yes’. I thought I’d be okay with it, but I’m not.”

The box fell to the floor when it tumbled from Harry’s hands. He looked _devastated,_ eyes wide and filled with fear, and his bottom lip trembled _._ “I don’t - _Louis_ , I don’t _understand_ , I - why?” Harry’s fingers were twitching as if he was desperate to reach out, and Louis had to hold himself back from jumping into his arms to press soothing kisses into his hair. Neither of them moved. “Please Lou, why?” There were tears in Harry’s eyes already, but Louis pushed on. 

He had to leave. 

“I’m sorry, I - I have to go, I’m gonna go stay at Zayn’s, I can’t - ,” he gasped out, but it wasn’t enough, and he flinched when Harry reached out for him. 

Harry pulled back instantly, his hand falling limply by his side. “No, Louis, c’mon.” Harry ran his shaking hand through his curls, and all Louis wanted was to wrap him up in his arms. “Please baby, what’s going on? Where did this _come_ from, I don’t understand.”

Louis took another step back. “I can’t. I’m going to Zayn’s. Please don’t call me.” 

Every word that left his mouth felt like it was dragged out of his throat, rubbing him raw and cutting him open to show the struggle it took to say them. 

He could see the moment that it struck Harry that this was happening, that this was real, and worst of all, that there didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it. 

Harry squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head violently, his hands clenching and unclenching even as a resigned tear ran down his cheek. “This - is this just a space thing, or - or a forever thing? Fuck, I love you, don’t _do_ this, I don’t understand,” Harry whispered, but it may has well have been slashed into Louis’ skin. 

He felt sick, bile rising in his throat as he stepped away, leaving Harry to tremble on his own. “I don’t know. ‘m sorry.” 

Louis left the room quickly, stifling a sob into his elbow when he reached the hallway. He felt hazy, so he grabbed anything he could think he’d need and shoved it into a bag. When he went to leave five minutes later, duffel bag hiked up onto his shoulder, he shot a glance at the living room to where Harry had been the whole time. 

He was sitting on the couch, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, turning the ring box over and over in his hands with his head hung low. Louis almost dropped everything, almost launched himself at Harry and promised he’d never leave. 

Instead, he purposefully didn’t say goodbye or look back. 

It didn’t stop him from hearing the anguished sob. 

By the time he got to Zayn’s, he was an absolute mess, a snotty mess intent on locking himself away until the world was quiet. 

Zayn opened the door before he even knocked.

“Li called me. Babe, what are you _doing_?” 

Louis didn’t answer, couldn’t, so he just stepped into the circle of Zayn’s arms and cried until Zayn tucked him into his bed. 

*****

He should’ve taken it off by now. He knew he shouldn’t technically still be wearing it, especially when every time he looked down it sent a stab of something he couldn’t name through his system. 

Louis twisted the gold ring where it sat on his finger, tracing the ‘S’ lightly, his mind blank. He thought he’d feel _too much_ at a time like this, but he felt nothing. It was disarming to be completely empty, too overwhelmed to even feel sadness or anger. There was nothing there. 

He curled up into himself on Zayn’s couch, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he rested on his side. He pinched his thigh through his sweatpants, desperate to feel something, anything to remind himself that he still _could_ feel. 

All it did was hurt. 

He hadn’t heard Zayn come into the room, but a cup of tea was carefully being placed on the coffee table. Zayn sat on the edge of the couch, a cup of coffee in his hand, and pushed Louis’ fringe off his face. 

“Lou, you can't hide out here forever. You have to talk to him sometime.” 

It had been four days since he’d left, four days since he’d last seen Harry or spoken to him. Louis had been ignoring his calls and texts, every soft buzz of his phone just rolling over him in a wave of nausea. 

“I can’t go back yet.” Louis’ voice was croaky from disuse, and he tried to clear it with a cough as he pulled himself up to sit. He wrapped his hands around the mug in front of him and cradled it against his chest. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, Zayn.”

Louis was staring down at the steam rising from his tea, watching it meld together in the air before it vanished. He didn’t even startle when he felt Zayn’s fingers running through his hair to settle at the nape of his neck. 

“What d’ya mean? It’s okay to not know, Louis.”

“It’s not though, not really.” Louis shook his head. “I’m so fucking hurt, like. I don’t know how to talk to him about it, or try to fix it, but I love him so much, and I know he loves me, but,” he trailed off in a whisper, going easily when Zayn tugged him to rest against his side. “I’m scared that if I talk to him, it’ll confirm everything, and then there’s no going back.” 

They sat silently after that, Zayn slowly sipping at his coffee as his other hand drifted through Louis’ hair. Louis’ tea stayed untouched in his hands, and as it got colder, it just seemed to match the feeling that’d settled into Louis’ heart. 

Louis startled when there was a knock at the door, and his heart leapt into his throat. It could _easily_ be Harry; Louis had told him where he was staying when he’d left, and while Louis’ mind and soul seemed to be yearning for him, his heart wasn’t ready for the possibility of a complete breakdown. 

Him and Zayn locked eyes. 

Zayn stood, setting his empty mug down. “I’ll be back, yeah?”

Louis sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as Zayn left the room, chewing on it as his trembling fingers put down his mug next to Zayn’s. He could hear Zayn whispering, but the voice that joined in wasn’t deep enough to be Harry’s. A cloud of disappointment settled over him when he realised it wasn’t him, couldn’t be him, and he clenched his fists in frustration at the thought that even though he wasn’t ready for it, his entire being was searching for Harry. 

Liam’s head popped around the corner. 

“Hey Tommo.” He smiled, but it was laced with sympathy, and didn’t reach his eyes. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

It was out of Louis’ mouth before he could stop it. 

“Have you seen him? Please tell me he’s alright.” His hand flew up to his mouth as if he could pull the words back in, as if he could make them believe that Harry wasn’t the only thing he could think about.

Louis wasn’t sure why that mattered though. It probably would’ve been odd if he was thinking about something else, thinking about anything other than the loss of the love of his life. He curled further into himself as Liam gently sat down next to him. 

“Are you sure you want to know?” Liam’s leg was bouncing lightly, his fingers fidgeting in his lap, and he only seemed to settle when Zayn ran a soothing hand down his back. 

“Yeah, please Payno.” 

Liam sighed and hung his head. “Alright. I’ve been staying there.” He lifted his head to look at Louis out of the corner of his eye, and reached out to place a comforting hand on his knee. “He’s a wreck, mate. He doesn’t understand, and I don’t either.”

Zayn interrupted, his tone warning. “Li -.”

But Liam wasn’t done, twisting around to look at his boyfriend. “No babe, please just let me.” He turned back to Louis, facing him head on. “I don’t get it, Louis. He loves you so much, I’ve never seen him like this before. You _owe_ it to him to at least talk about it, Tommo. You owe it to the _both_ of you.” 

Louis knew he was right, but nothing made _sense_ at the moment, a constant tug of war between rationality and self preservation. 

He didn’t respond, couldn’t find the words as his head throbbed, a dull headache starting between his eyes.

“I miss him so much,” Louis whispered, blinking back tears. “So fucking much, Li.” 

Liam instantly wrapped Louis up in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth. “Um, he’s - he’s actually just outside.”

Louis’ stomach dropped. 

He could hear Zayn hiss in the background, hear Liam trying to explain himself, but there was a ringing in his ears and an ache in his chest.

“ - to my _flat,_ Liam! This was Louis’ decision to make.”

“I know love, I _know_ , but Harry should get a say in this too! He’s a wreck, babe, I - .”

Louis’ voice cut through the tension and ever increasing volume of their argument. “Let him in.”

Zayn instantly squatted down in front of him. “Are you sure?” Zayn had always been protective, his main source of comfort and love and trust outside of his family, and during the last few days, he’d been the best Louis could’ve asked for. Louis had been shattered beyond belief, curled up on his couch, and Zayn had been there for him every step of the way. With Harry just outside the door, it made sense for him to be overly cautious now. Zayn sighed. “If this is what you want, I’ll let him in.”

Louis wiped the tears from his cheeks as they spilled over, but he nodded as he took a deep breath. “Yeah, Zaynie. It’s alright.”

“Alright babe. We’ll just be in my room, yeah?” 

And then they were both gone. Louis heard the front door, heard a soft shuffling and what sounded like...a hug, maybe? His leg wouldn’t stop shaking, bouncing to get rid of some of the nervous energy. 

It didn’t help, especially when he looked up, anhe was right there. 

He was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, Vans on his feet and limp hair pushed back from his face. There were dark bags under his eyes, and he looked exhausted, his whole body seeming to sag under the stress of what had happened. It didn’t matter, though. Harry was still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Seeing him felt like breaking through the water and taking the first breath of air after you’d been drowning, and Louis let himself breath for just a moment. 

“Haz.”

Harry’s face crumpled, and Louis almost leapt up to throw himself into his arms, hold him close until they were both okay again. 

He restrained. 

“Louis,” Harry choked out, and his fingers rubbed at the bottom of his hoodie, awkward and nervous. “I won’t - I won’t bother you for too long, I _won’t_ , I just have to know why.” He stepped closer, and Louis squeezed his eyes shut. “Please, baby.”

It was the pet name that was too much, the thing that made Louis sob into his sleeve. He heard Harry move closer, and then he was kneeling in front of Louis, and reaching up to cup his face. 

He was warm, strong, so gentle as his fingers stroked carefully over Louis’ cheeks and temples, and Louis had missed him _so much_. None of what had happened mattered right now, here, with Harry in front of him. That’s what he tried to convince himself of, anyway. 

Louis only had so much restraint, and he reached up to grip Harry’s wrists so tightly he was sure it must hurt. 

Maybe they’d be even, then. 

With a gasp, a sound that pulled Louis' heart further apart, Harry moved forward again, pressing their foreheads together, but Louis ripped himself back to get some air. His fingers tightened on Harry’s wrists before he dropped them completely, treacherous body already craving more skin to skin contact. 

The only way to stop himself caving and pretending everything was _normal_ was to blurt out the one thing he knew would stop Harry in his tracks. 

“You only proposed to me because Rob was there, I know you did. Please don’t pretend.”

 _Oh._ Harry’s face changed instantly, morphing into one of disbelief as his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted down in what looked like disappointment and anger. He shifted away from Louis, and Louis had to suppress a cry. 

He’d caused this, had done it on purpose, desperate to put some space between them, but it was almost like his body hadn’t caught up, and he had to clench his fist to stop from reaching out to smooth the frown lines in his forehead.

“You - you think I didn’t mean it?” Harry’s voice was steady, but his hands were trembling. “You think I don’t want to _marry_ you? Like we haven’t spoken about it for _months?_ I thought,” Harry laughed, but it was a broken sound that shot straight through Louis’ heart. As shattered as it was, Louis could almost _feel_ it trying to knit back together and drag Harry in with it. “I thought you knew how much I love you, Louis. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Louis tried to kick it back down, but his defensive instinct reared its ugly head. “I thought so too. He told me all about how you had a ring for him, and then you told me you didn’t _have_ one Harry, but suddenly when we get home, there’s one waiting? I don’t want to be someone’s back up. I _won’t_ ,” Louis finished, and every word that left his mouth felt like it was burning, like he was ruining everything. 

“He _spoke_ to you? Louis, why didn’t you _say_ something to me?” Harry ran his fingers through his hair, frustration obvious in his tone. “And I said I didn’t have the ring _on_ me, not that I didn’t _have_ one. I knew he’d talk to you, that’s why I told him not to go _near_ you when I went to the bathroom.”

“You - you spoke to _him?_ I - I don’t understand.” But the problem was that he was starting to, a slow wash of cold starting to sting every part of his body as he realised; he’d fucked up. Louis had let a stranger, someone with a clear agenda, ruin the best thing he’d ever known.

“He’s an arsehole, Louis. I haven’t been in love with him since long before we got together.” He reached out to take Louis’ hand, but resisted the tug when Louis tried to bring him closer. “I don’t know what he said to you, but I’d never propose out of _spite_ , Louis. I proposed because I love you, and because you’re the person I want to be with for the rest of my _life_. I asked you right there and then because you just get me, Lou, looking after me without even thinking, even with something as seemingly small as a hair tie,” Harry’s voice had dropped into a soft whisper. 

Louis felt sick now, his stomach swirling as he struggled to swallow back the bile in his throat. “But - but I heard you on the phone with Liam when I was in the bath, you said that Rob was there and you’d had no other _choice.”_

Harry shook his head, and moved further away, shuffling back on his knees. Louis’ brain was screaming at him to reach out, make sure he wasn’t _leaving_ , but he couldn’t move. 

“You would’ve heard me telling Liam that I spoke to Rob, that’s all. Fuck, Louis, why didn’t you just _tell_ me this?” 

Louis hung his head, and fiddled with the ring still resting on his finger. “I don’t know. I was scared, I guess.”

There were lips pressing at his temple, and then Harry was tracing the back of his fingers down Louis’ cheeks. “Don’t come home until you’ve figured it out.” He was staring at Louis’ face, his eyes seeming to take in as much of Louis’ features as he could. Louis exhaled heavily, but Harry didn’t even flinch as his thumb traced Louis’ bottom lip. “If you love me, if you want to marry me, if you _trust_ me, then come home, but not a second before then.” 

Harry didn’t look _mad_ or _frustrated_ when Louis pulled back _,_ just... _sad._ Louis was suddenly flooded with another intense need to reassure him, and he felt dizzy with the constant shifts in his emotions, the back and forth that threatened to stretch him too thin. 

Louis whipped around to try to catch his lips, still confused, but he knew what he wanted. He couldn’t hold back his sob when Harry moved back again, stopping him with a firm grip on his chin. 

“I want you to keep this, while you’re here. I didn’t know if you’d still be wearing it, but,” Harry stopped himself, and Louis looked down in confusion. “I want you to keep it until you’re ready for the real one.”

Harry’s hand had dropped to trace the ‘S’ ring on his finger, and Louis could only watch as Harry lifted it to his lips. He kissed it, and then each of Louis’ fingers, before he stood up with a final tug on Louis’ sweater. 

Harry smiled at him, but for the first time ever, Louis wasn’t sure what it meant.

“I wondered where this had gone. I love you, baby. I’ll hopefully see you soon.” Harry kissed the top of his head, lingering for a moment, and then he walked out of the lounge room, and Louis heard the door close through the roaring in his ears.

He looked down to his sweater and laughed. He hadn’t even realised he’d taken it, or that he’d thrown it on that morning, one of Harry’s softest woollen sweaters that smelt like his cologne. 

It only took him five minutes to gather himself before he was grabbing his keys, and walking out the front door to go home. 

*****

He was sure Harry must have beaten him home, Louis’ Uber having gotten lost somehow, but when he wandered into the kitchen, the house was quiet. 

“Haz? Harry?” 

When there was no answer, not even the sound of someone moving upstairs, Louis looked around the kitchen, and his eyes zeroed in on a small, black velvet box on the bench. 

He didn’t want to give himself enough time to second guess it, so he marched over, grabbed the box, and pushed it open. 

_Oh. Harry._

Louis had no idea how he could’ve possibly thought it was for anyone else. 

Blue and green stones blinked up at him under the kitchen lights, set into a simple platinum band. It was understated but perfect, and it seemed to sum them up even at just a glance. How Harry had managed to do that with an engagement ring, Louis would never know. He picked it up carefully, twisting it under the light, and then he caught sight of the engraving on the underside, and he choked on a sob.

_My light in the dark._

“I got it specially made just for you.”

Louis had been too caught up in the ring to hear Harry come into the room, but when he swung around, Harry was leaning against the doorframe, watching him with a fondness on his face that warmed Louis through with _hope_ and _love_.

Louis’ voice was stronger than it’d been in days. “Ask me again.”

Harry jerked, his mouth falling open slightly as he waved a piece of paper in the air. “I - really? But it’s only been 20 minutes. I was just getting the email to show you when I ordered your ring so you _knew_ it was for you. Lou, I never want you to be unsure.”

They were still standing way too far apart, and Louis was already shaking his head. “I’m positive. I know what I want, and it’s you, forever. I just let some arsehole fuck me up.” Louis moved closer now, closing the gap between them as he slid the ring back in the box and closed it. “I don’t _need_ the email, Haz. This ring never could’ve been for anyone else. Ask me again.”

Harry looked conflicted now, his gaze flicking between the ring and the paper. “But I don’t want there to be any more miscommunication. I need you to _know_ , Louis.”

“I do know, Haz. You can show me later.” He held the box out to Harry, hands steady when he took it from him. “Now. Ask me again.” 

Harry was falling to his knee before the grin was even wide enough to split his face, the paper falling to the ground, useless now. “Louis William Tomlinson.” He held Louis’ hand as gently as possible, sliding off the ‘S’ ring and slipping it into his pocket. Louis couldn’t resist tickling Harry’s jaw, giggling when Harry kissed the now empty space. “I love you. Will you marry me?” 

The ring box wasn’t even open before Louis was bending down and throwing his arms around Harry’s neck. They tumbled backwards as Louis kissed him, holding each other as close as possible as they laughed, rolling around on their kitchen floor while Louis’ heart beat wildly in his chest.

The answer had never been so obvious. 

“ _Yes.”_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it!  
> Kudos and nice comments make me happy 🥰  
> Xx


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